'From Rhodesia, you remember.' 'Good God, the murderer!' he choked.
'Just so.

And there'll be a second murder, my dear, if you don't do as I tell you.

Give me that coat of yours.

That cap, too.' He did as bid, for he was blind with terror.

Over my dirty trousers and vulgar shirt I put on his smart driving-coat, which buttoned high at the top and thereby hid the deficiencies of my collar.